Memory Lane
by solveariddle
Summary: Emily is leaving the BAU, and it's Hotch's last chance to convince her to stay. An almost impossible task as it turns out...
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **Ever since Paget Brewster announced that she will leave the show, and the writers/producers made public that – SPOILER ALERT – they won't kill her character off but that Prentiss will leave to proceed other goals in life, this story begged to be written. I wanted Hotch and her to somehow skip through the time they spent together and relive some of the memories. And, of course, I wanted Hotch to try and convince her to stay.

Unfortunately writing the story was more like pulling of teeth, and I honestly don't know why. Jeez! I think I rarely had such a difficult time writing a story, and I'm still not completely satisfied with the outcome (well, on the other hand, I seldom am). So, I'm quite uneasy and thus would really appreciate your feedback.

Special thanks to **greengirl82 **for giving me tips how to overcome a severe writer's block.

This will most likely be a two- or threeshot with references to seasons 2-7. R&R please.

**Disclaimer: **Not mine. Otherwise things would be different, believe me. But... I have to face the harsh reality... Criminal Minds is owned by CBS.

* * *

><p><strong>Afternoon<strong>

So, this is it.

Aaron Hotchner sits in his office and tries to calm down his breathing. He never thought this day would come. Yet it is here, and he had not enough time to prepare. Scratch that! There is not enough time in the world to prepare for this.

His thoughts race even if he tries to focus. He should have seen it coming, he should have reacted differently, he should have... It doesn't help; his thoughts always find their way back to what happened a few hours ago...

* * *

><p><strong>Morning<strong>

She comes into his office, and he immediately senses that something is wrong because she is nervous and agitated – just like she was in the early days when he... didn't exactly treat her with the respect she deserves.

When she starts to speak, the reason for her behavior becomes obvious. "I'm leaving the BAU," Emily tells him softly, almost sympathetically, and presents him with an envelope. "I just informed the personnel department. This is a copy of my resignation. I've been offered a job overseas as a foreign affairs adviser that is too good to turn down." She knows that this is a decision that will affect all of them – especially since she only just is back from the dead so to speak. When Emily's eyes darken, he realizes that he hasn't taken the envelope from her, her outstretched hand still holding it and hovering in the air.

Hotch takes the envelope or rather whips it out of her hand. Something he only becomes aware of when he notices her perplexed expression. She might have been prepared for a reaction but obviously not for an emotional one – at least not from him.

"Why?" he asks her, oblivious to the fact that it sounds like an accusation. After all it is meant as one.

Emily takes a deep breath. This will be the hardest part.

* * *

><p><strong>Afternoon<strong>

Hotch's phone rings and vaults him back into reality. A reporter has some questions about an old case. When the call is finished, Hotch's thoughts for once don't snap back to what happened this morning. Instead he allows himself a moment of weakness, leans back and lets his mind wander...

There are so many memories he shares with his team – good ones and bad ones balancing each other. They all are professional agents, brilliant profilers and can rely on one another. They all care deeply for the well-being of others even if years of exposure to evil dulled them a little. All that, they have in common. Yet there is something special about each member of his team, he can name off the top of his head.

Emily Prentiss is a lot of things, but above all she is resilient, fiercely loyal and incredibly affectionate beneath her outer strength.

She is resilient, perhaps in comparison the most resilient one of them, considering what she had to go through. Back then she explained it casually away with her ability to compartmentalize when in fact it is a trained skill due to her past as an undercover agent she couldn't reveal to them until it almost was too late.

She is loyal to the point where she decided to give up her career rather than to sell him out and whisper in Strauss' ear. For crying out loud, she even risked sacrificing herself to save her team – how much more loyal can someone be?

She is affectionate. More than once he watched her inner struggle not to empathize too much with one of the victims. He winces at the thought how he reprimanded her because she let him in on her reflection to take care of a girl whose family just had been killed. _I need to know that I'm human_, she told him, _confided in him_, and he rejected it with a shrug and told her that she shouldn't get too involved when he should have appreciated it instead – her ability to remain human despite the monsters they fought and still fight every day.

But if Hotch is perfectly honest, it is not her resilience, loyalty or kindness he remembers when he thinks of her. Most of all he remembers... her. Her infectious laughter, her witty remarks, her attractiveness. Things he always noticed but never allowed himself to see because they were part of the team, colleagues, supervisor and subordinate even, forbidden territory. _Were..._ In fact that ended the moment she handed over her resignation to him – and with this his thoughts jump back to that moment.

* * *

><p><strong>Morning<strong>

He drops her letter of resignation onto his desk and realizes that she hasn't answered his question.

"Why?" Hotch repeats as he meets her eyes and detects with some satisfaction the slight flicker of discomfort in her gaze. She might have just told him that he no longer is her superior, but his legendary stare is still able to make her feel uneasy.

Emily holds his gaze before she eventually looks away with an almost inaudible sigh, shakes her head and looks back at him unwaveringly. His stare might be able to make her uncomfortable, but she isn't, _wasn't_ he corrects himself, the most resilient of his team for nothing.

"You really don't know?" she then answers his question with a question and tilts her head a little in the way he knows so well.

Deep down the knowledge that he won't see this small gesture again in the near future, maybe never, starts to spread a nagging pain. "Know what?" Hotch asks in return and doesn't even try to soften the harshness in his voice. This is personal. He did everything to make sure she is safe – participated in faking her death, feigned her funeral, lied for her, lied to his team, to the people he cares most about aside from his family – and she just decides to leave. Yes, this definitely is personal.

Emily opens her mouth to say something, then seems to think about it, and Hotch can literally see her replace the words she originally wanted to say by what she tells him now.

"When I came back to join the team, I thought things would be different," she eventually says. "But... they weren't... aren't... and that's why I think it's time for a change."

Once she mentioned foreign affairs, it was almost plausible. He always knew that it would happen. With so many talented people in his team, one of them was bound to leave rather sooner than later. His bets had been on Morgan, though, not her. _No, not her_, he thinks, and the nagging pain sends a shiver through his body. And as if things weren't bad enough, she basically just admitted that she's not leaving because of the great new job offer but because something wasn't right, because she had expected things to be different.

"Different – how?" Hotch is confused. He assumed she was glad that things were back to normal, that the team had readjusted.

Again her gaze lingers longer on him than necessary as she weighs her options before she starts to speak, "Do you remember when I joined the team? How you... resented me for being here? How difficult you made it for me to become a part of the team?"

Hotch can't help it. He has to break the eye contact, the guilt catching up with him even after all these years. He cringes at the thought how openly he rejected her, distrusted her, even if she never gave him any reason to do so. This is past, and he revised his attitude long ago. Yet this is the first time that she voiced what happened between them, and it hurts to hear her speak her mind aloud.

When he wants to say something, to apologize, Emily holds up her hand to stop him. It's a gentle gesture, not confrontational at all, a sign that she has forgiven him, and Hotch is relieved. But there is more.

"Did you notice how happy I was when you came to my apartment after my resignation due to Strauss' scheme some years ago and asked me to come back, to work this one last case with you?" her voice almost breaks, and Hotch becomes aware that the emotional turmoil is not only inside him, it is fighting inside her, too.

"Of course, I remember," he answers and realizes at the same time that this wasn't her question. She didn't ask him whether he remembered the moment, she asked him whether he had noticed how happy his actions had made her and to be honest – no, he hadn't noticed back then and hadn't given it a second thought until this day. Somehow he had taken it for granted that she had come back and stayed. Just like he had always believed that they would catch Doyle so that she would come back again. And it had happened. Save that she didn't come back to stay this time.

"What else do you remember?" Emily asks after a short pause, and her disappointment that he didn't really answer her question is obvious. This time Hotch thinks about her question, doesn't want to disappoint her once more, and there is so much he remembers, he doesn't know which memory to pick. Most of all, though, he remembers, no, discernswith a sudden clarity,that he shouldn't have taken it all for granted – that she offered herself as a bait several times to catch the unsub, flirted with despicable monsters like the Fox or less abhorrent ones like Viper and took care of him without hesitation after New York and Foyet. He took it all for granted, never thanked her, never even acknowledged that he appreciated it, let alone returned the gesture when she needed him after Cyrus, Doyle or when she was shot recently.

The memories are still flooding through him when the silence between them reminds Hotch that he still owes her an answer. "I don't know where to start," he finally says, hoping that she'll understand.

She doesn't. "Sure," Emily sighs resignedly, and he knows immediately that time is running out and mentions the first thing that comes to his mind, "Too many look like you." With this Hotch at least has her undivided attention. She frowns and looks at him, waiting for an explanation.

"The victims," he adds. Most of the time the victims were women, and often they were her type. To this day Hotch hardly bears to look at the dead bodies – tortured, mistreated, thrown away like garbage. Successful, beautiful women in real life, just like her. It is always bad, but these cases are even worse. "They often resemble you or at least your type," he admits haltingly. Hotch usually doesn't talk about his inner fights, rarely lets someone else glimpse at what is going on at heart.

The look in Emily's eyes softens. "I never thought it would affect you, too," she says, apparently touched by his admission. Of course, she recognized the resemblance between herself and some of the victims, but she never gave it a second thought that her colleagues, especially Hotch, would also be affected by it. As much as she is touched, though, she is also disappointed and angry because it is one more burden they could have shared, and yet Hotch decided to let them both deal with it alone.

They are sitting face to face – she in front of his desk, he behind it – like many times before. If someone told him this morning that today would be the last time, Hotch would have laughed at this person. Right now he feels as if he will never be able to laugh again. He knows that he still owes her so many answers to so many unspoken questions. But there is the one question she hasn't answered as yet.

"You said that you thought things would be different when you came back to join the team. Different – how?" he repeats his former question, still at a loss for an answer and the meaning behind her words.

Emily's reaction is similar to the one she had earlier. She looks down, sighs and shakes her head. Obviously she doesn't want to explain it to him. She wants him to know it without having to give him an explanation. And Hotch wants to know it, desperately, the nagging pain in light of her impending leave creeping through his body like an unwanted intruder. He might not know why she wants to leave, but he knows for sure that this nagging pain will accompany him for the rest of his life if he doesn't manage to convince her to stay or at least to tell him about her reasons why she is going to abandon the team and him.

Right now, however, it seems as if she has nothing more to say. She even avoids eye contact, looking down at her hands, and as well as Hotch is convinced that she has a relapse and is picking at her nails again, he is acutely aware that time is slipping away much too fast. Any second she will stand up and just walk out.

His thoughts jump back to the memories that crossed his mind earlier, and he picks one randomly. How they walked down the hall in the secure unit of the prison to interrogate the Fox. How one of the inmates threw himself against the safety glass and scared her. How he was completely oblivious to the situation he deliberately had put her in because all that was on his mind at the time was to solve the case and to get the Fox to talk. _Must be distracting, working with someone so beautiful,_ the Fox tried to provoke him, and suddenly Hotch realizes that he murmured the words as he remembered them.

Emily has looked up again, most likely because she heard what he said. "The Fox," she confirms his assumption.

"Yes," Hotch nods. "I know I never told you – at least not that expressively – even if I should have, but I hope you know how much I appreciate your work. You are an excellent profiler." He uses the present tense on purpose. For a man like him this is almost an emotional outburst. He praises rarely, if ever. But what he really wants to tell her, is something else. _Stay. Don't leave._ Words he doesn't speak aloud because he isn't used to begging, and he never would have thought that he would have to deal with such a situation in the first place. Yes, it is distracting to work with someone so beautiful. But it will be even more distracting not to work with her anymore, not to be able to look at her every day. There is a reason why she has the desk across from his office. "It will be a tremendous loss if you decide to leave the team," Hotch adds, almost painfully aware how stilted and formal his words sound. Why isn't he able to say what he really wants to say?

At the moment, though, whatever he tells her seems to be too little, too late. "You're right," Emily responds, only to amend with brutal honesty, "I assumed it, like we all do, but you're right, you never told me that expressively." It's only now that he sees it in her eyes – perhaps because she lets him see it deliberately – the hurt, the disappointment. "Solely one time I really felt your support," she continues, and it dawns on Hotch that what he had thought to be a good idea to convince her to stay – namely telling her how much he appreciates her work as an agent – just completely backfires. "When you talked to me, offered me to confide in you whenever I had a bad day," her voice catches in her throat, and she has to look away. When she looks back at him, he sees nothing but determination. "That was the moment when I thought things would change. Unfortunately I was wrong."

And just like that she told him why she is leaving. Somehow between the lines. But he heard her – loud and clear. And that's when the profiler understands that his profile of her was wrong, so utterly, devastatingly wrong that he can't even begin to point at his mistakes. The way she looked at him the day she came back. He was her ally, her _only_ ally at that time, considering that the team was shocked and in denial. Yet he never talked to her about her near death experience or about her time away in Europe. And when he found out that she had lied on purpose to her therapist to receive clearance for field duty, he for once did the right thing and confronted her with it. But did he really believe that this was all it took to help her through this? One moment to offer his support, another moment to listen to her admitting that she had a bad day and on with the show?

Emily Prentiss is no weak, dependent woman. She needs no shoulder to cry on. But she is human and when she came back, she hoped for, waited for, the team to show her that they were glad to have her back, that they forgave her for the necessary secrets and the heavy burden of loss and grief. And they all showed her their support. It wasn't easy at the beginning. Trust didn't need to be earned again, it was still there, but wounds needed to heal first. And once this had happened, their bond was stronger than before. There was only one person that kept the distance except for some encounters on a personal level – Hotch. And these encounters weren't enough neither in terms of quantity nor quality to convince her that he not only was glad that she was back as an agent but simply that she was back. Hotch made the same mistake again. He took her for granted and doesn't know which words he could possibly find that would make it up to her.

"Please give me some time to tell the others," Emily almost pleads wistfully and gestures toward the bullpen. He was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't recognize that she stood up and is about to leave. The rest of the team has arrived, oblivious to the fact that things are about to change for good.

Again his silence, his inability to voice his thoughts, has given her the wrong impression that he doesn't care. The nagging pain is back with full force. But he knows, just _knows_, that whatever he will say now won't change anything. She has already set her mind.

Emily shirks from his look as she turns around and walks out of his office. Hotch can't believe that this really is happening.

"Stay. Don't leave," eventually he is able to utter these words, his voice a whisper. But there is no-one around anymore to hear him. His office is empty.

* * *

><p>To be continued<p>

_So, what do you think?_

_Should Hotch get another chance to convince her to stay?_

_Click the button and tell me._

_Thanks!_


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Thank you so much for your alerts and your kind reviews. You really encouraged me to overcome my uncertainties and continue with the story. I hope you don't feel as if this chapter is merely a repetition of the first. It was important to me to dig even deeper into their complicated relationship and let Hotch realize the hard way that he seriously messed up. Again there are references to seasons 2-7.

There will be one more chapter. Yes, I'm stalling a little for time here so that I can make up my mind how to bring this baby home (although I have a favorite how I want it to end). So, while I'm making up my mind and trying to work on the next (and final) chapter – please R&R.

**Disclaimer: **Not mine. Criminal Minds is owned by CBS.

* * *

><p><strong>Afternoon<strong>

Hotch granted Emily her wish to tell the team herself. Of course, it didn't take long until the knocking on his door started.

"Hold her back. No matter what it takes." Morgan, desperate.

"You can not allow this to happen. You're the unit chief. There has to be a way to make her stay. You're the unit chief. Oh, I already said that, didn't I? So... please." Garcia, no less desperate than Morgan.

"Why?" Reid, completely devastated.

No words but only a slightly disapproving nod in passing from Rossi.

And last but not least the words that reflected what was preying on his mind. "Could we have done anything? Is this our mistake? Did we handle things wrong?" JJ.

There was no current case, only paperwork to do and when it became clear that Emily wouldn't change her mind, they decided one by one to call it a day. Only Reid is still in the bullpen, and it pains Hotch to see him sitting hunched over at his desk, trying to distract himself with some scientific theory he probably would hardly be able to understand. Emily's absence will leave more than one of them broken.

This wasn't her last day. She told him that she will be with the team for a couple more days to get her paperwork done and make an organized delivery. Just like she always does anything neatly and structured. Even breaking their hearts.

He could have asked her for another talk, and he has no excuse for not having done this other than the fact that he is simply at a loss what he could tell her. It was his mistake to take her for granted again. He knows that. She knows that. What could he possibly tell her that is not as inadequate as what he already told her? What is not too little, too late?

There is no other sound in his office than a clock ticking. He felt it before, but right now the feeling is still more pressing. Hotch is acutely aware that he is running out of time.

* * *

><p><strong>Evening<strong>

It takes no profiler to understand why Hotch doesn't drive home after he left the office but to her apartment instead. Unfinished business. And as uncomfortable and bewildered this whole situation makes him feel, he knows that there is no other option. He has to bring things to an end. Whatever that means.

He was at her apartment once before. In fact it was another apartment but almost the same situation. She quit, and back then he was able to convince her to stay. Today he is completely uncertain what will be the result of his fresh attempt to prevent that she leaves the BAU.

Fragmentary memories of their longstanding collaboration pop up in his mind as he stands in front of her door. He is not able to stop the trip down memory lane that has started in his office hours ago. Declining pictures of various scenes becoming more and more blurry the harder he tries to get a better look. And it always ends with the painful realization that she was good at respecting bounds, especially the ones he set to her. Now he is about to cross the line. Hotch raises his hand and knocks on her door, ready to enter her privacy.

It takes too long until Emily opens the door, and Hotch is pretty sure that she considered not letting him in. As soon as the door is open, he enters her apartment with grand strides and only turns around when he already is standing in the middle of her living room.

"So... why don't you come in?" her snarky remark barely hides her tension. The events of the day left their mark on both of them.

Hotch doesn't respond. After all he deserves it given that he just entered her private space without an invitation. Unfortunately his silence hurt her before today.

"Well, we already did this," she lets her anger shine through openly. "I told you... things, and you responded rarely or not at all. I really don't have time to do this again."

It's only now that Hotch realizes she is in the middle of packing. There are boxes everywhere. He didn't give it a second thought, but, of course, an overseas employment means that she will move. And she will not only move to another city. She will leave the country.

The nagging pain is back. He suddenly feels as if someone kneed him in the guts and almost doubles over. But that's not like him. Instead of breaking down, he is hanging on. And the only way he can do this, is covering his face with the mask of a man who doesn't feel anything. The mask she knows so well.

"Hotch... honestly," Emily's whole posture screams disappointment and resignation when she gestures toward her door. "If you have nothing to say, then leave. Please."

He doesn't move and when he starts to speak, he has an even more sounding and deep voice than usual, "Just because I don't show my affection, doesn't mean I don't care." Hotch is aware that he is the master of self-control. Yet it stings to realize how cold and unmoved he obviously appears to be. But most of all this stings, "Do you really think that I don't care?" _About you _– words he wanted to add and didn't due to his self-control that sometimes doesn't do him any good.

Hotch searches Emily's eyes and is greeted with one of her intense gazes. "You know that I know very well how compartmentalization works," she responds quietly. "I understand why you try to suppress your fear or what you consider weakness so that we, the team, don't see you struggle with it at work. The point is – you could let us see it. You could share the burden, but you constantly choose not to. And when it comes to caring about other people, of course, I know that you do care. It's just that it never felt as if you cared..." _About me_ – they both know how the sentence was supposed to end, and they also both know why she chose not to end it that way. As much as it hurts her that he seemingly never gave her that, Emily Prentiss is not the kind of woman to beg for anything.

They are both frozen on the spot. None of them moves. They barely breathe.

"You don't trust women as much as men," Hotch suddenly says and catches her off guard with his remark. "That's what you told me some years ago when I asked the team about my weaknesses," he answers her unspoken question, and she remembers. Back then his question was meant as a brainstorming to help solve a case, and each member of the team reluctantly spoke his or her mind. The memory of Hotch distrusting and scrutinizing her as the rookie of the team had been so vivid that this was Emily's spontaneous reaction to his question. One he obviously hasn't forgotten up to today.

"I admit that I had some issues with the circumstances in which you joined the team," he explains. "And the only female profiler had left the team shortly before not exactly on amicable terms. In retrospect this had probably a lot more influence on the way I treated you than I allowed myself to see back then."

"Morgan told me that you always called her by her first name – Elle," Emily adds carefully and nibbles at her bottom lip. "Is that why you never call me by my first name? Because of the similarity?"

"Perhaps," Hotch admits. "At first I never thought about it, and later on you already were Prentiss to me." It is one more thing he only realizes now. How something that was normal for him, was an indication of distance between them. There is _JJ_ and _Dave_ and – even if not often – _Derek_, but the times when he called her Emily were a more than rare exception.

He remembers how she came to his office after her friend had died – shocked, confused, soaked with rain and trying very hard not to cry or to break down in front of him. Even if she suspected that her friend had been murdered, it apparently was no official visit, and she apparently needed his help, his affection, so badly that her first name left his lips before he even had a chance to think twice. He offered her support with gentle words. As soon as the first obstacles were put in his way, though, he dropped her; he is well aware of that. And hadn't it been for Dave's intervention, the case probably would have remained unsolved. What she doesn't know is that treating her wrongfully was his way of keeping the distance. He so desperately wanted to be there for her that it almost physically hurt him to see her suffer. And he couldn't allow that to happen, couldn't allow himself to be distracted by her long before the Fox pointed it out to him dead-on.

"Sometimes...," Hotch says hesitatingly. "...I tried too hard to keep the distance and hurt you along the way. This isn't something I'm proud of." He takes a deep breath, "Please know that I'm sorry and that I care about you, Emily. I really do."

Immediately she breaks the eye contact, and at first he thinks she is angry with him until he realizes that she is fighting tears. Suddenly he feels so close to her emotionally as he only felt once before – when she accompanied him to his apartment on his first day back at work after Foyet. Hotch knows that if he reached out and touched her now, it would be natural, meant to be.

When Emily recovers her voice, it sounds wobbly, "The scars, Doyle inflicted on me, are not the worst. The worst scars you can't see. My soul is scarred." Her hand touches her chest, and she needs a moment to compose herself. When she continues to speak, her voice is steady again, "I really thought I could do it. When I came back, I thought things being back to how they used to be was what I wanted. But it's not. I have changed. I can't go back to how things were. I just can't. It's not enough anymore. I want more, and I'm not willing to settle for less." She makes another brief pause and goes on with even more vehemence, "The one and only benefit from almost having died..." Hotch winces how matter-of-factly she is able to refer to Doyle's cold-blooded attack that almost cost her life. "...is that I appreciate life even more. And staying with the team, with you, without changing anything would do nothing but inflict another scar on my soul." Emily's eyes bore into his, and he understands, really understands, maybe really heard her for the first time since they've been working together. And that's why he knows at the same time that her decision is most likely irreversible, his hindsight only an irrelevant sideshow.

"I took you for granted," Hotch says, and it sounds like the confession it is.

"Yes, you did," her voice is a whisper by now.

"And I'm so sorry if I hurt you, please, believe me." Hotch again.

This time her response takes a moment, "Yes, I believe you. But it's not enough."

And with this the small spark of hope, Hotch felt only minutes ago, threatens to vanish into thin air.

"What would be enough?" he has to ask. Although there is little hope left, the fight is not over yet.

Hotch mentally kicks himself for being so naïve to believe that she always would be around, that she always would be _what would happen some day_. Not today or tomorrow – some day. On all the todays in the past there was always a good reason why she, _they_, couldn't happen. He was still married. He was coming to terms with his own traumatic experiences. He was her superior. Lately he even started dating again. Beth is a nice woman, but she doesn't even come close when he thinks about getting seriously involved. Therefore, even if he enjoys her company, he considers ending it before it actually has begun. Most of all because he doesn't intend to hurt her, and – let's face it – all the time the real deal, the real danger, the reason why Beth can never be _the one_ has been already at his side.

"I don't know what would be enough," Emily finally answers, and her voice sounds small like a child's. She has crossed the arms in front of her chest. The classical defensive posture.

She knows exactly what would be enough; she's simply not willing to bare her thoughts. Hotch, on the other hand, is not willing to give her up just like that and steps closer to her. "Then at least don't leave until we have a chance to find out," his voice is hoarse, his hand reaches out to touch her face, and then, eventually, he is able to tell her what has been on his mind the whole day, "Stay. Don't leave."

He can literally see how his words hit her, how desperately she has been waiting to hear them. Emily relaxes and even smiles, but it's a sad, wistful smile, and instantly Hotch knows what her answer will be before she speaks her mind aloud, "I'm sorry." _Too little..._ "I can't stay with the BAU." _Too late..._

Hotch's emotional turmoil suddenly stops and is replaced by an unexpected inner calm. He doesn't have to think twice. There is only one option left, and it's all or nothing. "Then stay with me," he says, staking everything on one card.

* * *

><p>To be continued<p>

_I hope you enjoyed the chapter._

_Your review (long or short) is very appreciated._

_Thanks!_


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **Hi, guys! So, here it is – the third and final chapter. Considering that we all know PB will leave CM (at least as a regular cast member), writing this felt different. Like the last scene that's (probably) not meant to be. I hope most of you appreciate Emily's choice in this story. After pondering other options, I eventually sticked with the one I had in mind right from the beginning.

Again thank you so much for your alerts and your reviews. Since I unfortunately didn't find the time to get back to all of you who reviewed the last chapter individually, let me send virtual hugs to all of you lovely reviewers in this way:

**greengirl82, NicknHotchfan, Danzjaron, TigerLily888, skinnymini01, Ncisluver, Yovillelova, Au Hunter, emmasong95, History05, anon, Rugbygirrl, starryeyes12, HGRHfan35, believesvueo, FannyK, Catulicious, lou3174**

Of course, I'm especially eager (and nervous, always nervous) to read what you think about the last chapter. So, please, please, please R&R.

**Disclaimer: **Not mine. Criminal Minds is owned by CBS. But if someone of TPTB wants to pick up the idea of this story to write Prentiss out of the show, I'm open to negotiation – just drop me a line. :)

* * *

><p><strong>Night<strong>

They sit side by side on the floor, backs against her sofa that is piled high with boxes and stuff waiting to be packed.

_Stay with me..._

After Hotch's offer, if you may say so, Emily at first stared at him perplexedly and in disbelief. Then she walked over to her cupboard, took out a bottle of wine and two glasses and handed one of the glasses over to him wordlessly. She poured the wine, and they had just half-drunk the first glass standing, an awkward silence surrounding them, when Emily suddenly moved away from him at a brisk pace and turned off the lights. The huge windows in her apartment let in enough light from outside so that Hotch could still make out the furniture and her outline, but he couldn't distinguish the exact facial expression anymore. Probably that was the point. She gestured toward her sofa and told him to sit down on the floor in front of it because this way they had at least a backrest. All the seats in her apartment were piled high with stuff, and obviously she had no intention to put some of the boxes away so that they could make it themselves more comfortable. So they just sat there on the floor, the awkward silence lingering on for a couple of minutes, until Hotch picked another random memory. He started to talk, and to his surprise she joined in. He remembered this. She remembered that. And they talked, shared the memories, and it felt good. No one mentioned that she still owed him a response.

It probably is way beyond midnight by now. The lazy tiredness in his body tells Hotch that it has to be late or early, depending on your point of view. He has lost his track of time, but it doesn't matter. It is one of Jack's nights with Jessica, and Hotch doesn't have to worry about his son. He could sit here all night and talk to Emily although he knows that his legs and back will hurt in the morning due to the unaccustomed and slightly uncomfortable posture. Or he could close his eyes and just listen to her – her words, her soft voice. It simply feels right and good to be here.

The awkward tension between them vanished into thin air. Everything about their current situation oozes comfortableness. They sit closer to each other than before. Their bodies almost touch. He can feel the warmth of her skin.

"The bottle is empty. I'll get us another one," Emily stands up, struggles a little in the middle of the movement and supports herself against the sofa behind him. Suddenly she is so close that he could kiss her, her hair brushing his face, and he smells her perfume or maybe just her. Hotch doesn't know, and it doesn't matter. It makes him lightheaded and dizzy anyway. Then she is gone, and the air feels cold.

She comes back with a fresh bottle that she hasn't opened yet. "Do you want another glass of wine?" she asks, about to open it. But she stops when he doesn't answer. "Or do you want to go home?" Is this wistfulness in her voice? Does she really want him to stay that much? Or is she just trying to delay the inevitable? Her response.

Emily sits back down next to him and puts the unopened bottle away. "Do you?" she repeats her question. "Want to go home that is?" Let alone that he would have to call a cab. Hotch is not drunk, but there is too much alcohol in his blood. He shouldn't drive anymore. Neither of them should. She isn't drunk either, but they both had their fair share of wine. Save that she doesn't have to go anywhere. There is a soft bed waiting for her somewhere in her apartment. Suddenly Hotch becomes very aware that they are alone in her apartment. At night. In the dark. Sightly drunk. His skin starts to prickle in anticipation of...

"Hotch?" she interrupts his reverie. "Have you fallen asleep?" She is trying to make a joke, but he can hear the slight insecurity in her voice. Sharing the memories was safe ground, but every deviation immediately leads onto rough terrain.

"No," he speaks quietly, but his voice is still too loud in the silent room. "No," he repeats and touches her arm to enforce his words. "I haven't fallen asleep although I have to admit that I'm a little tired, and I don't want to go home. But I think we should quit the wine for tonight. Or at least I should since I'm not used to it." Emily freezes, and first Hotch considers it to be an odd reaction to his words until he realizes that he never touched her before. She is not reacting to his words. She is reacting to the physical contact. This is the first time. He is the unit chief and always keeps the distance, watches the other team members hug and squeeze when one of them celebrates his or her birthday but never participates. Therefore he never embraced her, never touched her before, doesn't know what it feels like to hold her.

"When Reid and you came out of the compound alive, I was so relieved and wanted to put my arms around you so badly...," his voice trails off as he remembers the moment. Her battered face, the blood on her clothes, the extensive bruises he knew had to be all over her body because they all had heard how Cyrus had beaten her up badly.

"Then why didn't you?" Emily doesn't seem to mind the change of subject. Her question, however, is rhetorical. Hotch didn't embrace her simply because he is like that.

"Didn't want to scare off Reid by pulling him into a hug," despite the rhetorical question Hotch's answer is surprisingly witty, and Emily chuckles only to catch her breath suddenly.

Hotch notices that he unconsciously started to caress the bare skin of her lower arm where he touched her. It's an almost innocent contact, and yet he feels as if he's on fire. And she seems to feel the same, considering her reaction. He looks at her and even if he still can only see her outline, he can make out that she is also looking at him, her mouth slightly open. And when her tongue slips over her lips – a habit she most likely is not even aware of, but one he knows too well – he feels a traction in his groin and lets his hand slip in a sudden brave move to her stomach.

This time he thinks she has stopped breathing completely until he feels how she covers his hand with hers. He expects her to pull his hand away, to tell him to stop, but she just leaves her hand there.

"I didn't embrace you after Cyrus because if I had... I don't know what my reaction would have been," Hotch admits hoarsely after a moment. Somehow it seems to be the right time for this confession. "I had been so scared for your lives, Reid's and yours, and the physical contact combined with the emotional relief – I shied away from that. Call me a coward."

"Well, then you can call me a coward, too," Emily responds after a brief thoughtful pause. "I turned off the lights because I couldn't look at you after... what you said to me."

_Stay with me..._

She feels his hand twitch under hers, but he stops himself from pulling it back. His posture has to be uncomfortable by now. He leans forward to be able to touch her but had to stop halfway because otherwise his body would be pressed against hers. Somehow this uncomfortableness represents their relationship. Sometimes they were almost halfway there, but neither of them followed through with it and made the first move.

Except that Hotch now knows how her skin feels and how her breath changes when he touches her. He has crossed more than one line tonight, and on the spur of the moment he decides that he will cross another line if she lets him.

The darkness prevents Hotch from looking directly into her eyes. He is pretty sure, though, that he would find confirmation in there that what he is about to do is what she wants, too. He also is pretty sure that Emily Prentiss would have taken over control in a situation like this with any other man by now, but she won't do this when it comes to him. He messed things up, and he has to make it up to her. He has to make the first move.

Hotch closes the distance between them and kisses her. What starts softly and cautiously, becomes a fervent duel of their mouths and tongues at a great pace. Only when he feels her body pressed against his at full length, he realizes that he has pushed her down on the floor and is already half on top of her.

"Hotch...," Emily holds him back softly. "Before we do this, please know that this has nothing to do with my decision. This is now. This is tonight. And I want it. But if you're rushing things in a desperate attempt to..."

He stops her words with another kiss. As much as he needs to know what her answer will be, she is right. This is now. This is tonight. And for a while they don't talk anymore. And eventually Hotch experiences what it feels like to hold her, to touch her, to make love to her.

* * *

><p><strong>Morning<strong>

Hotch leaves Emily's apartment at first light. His suit is crinkled, and he can't remember having such a severe lack of sleep in... he doesn't know how many years. At least he is not hungover. They didn't drink that much. He stops by at home to change clothes and when he arrives at the office – a little later than usual but not too late so that the other team members don't notice anything – Emily is already there. The night without sleep obviously hasn't affected her at all. She looks fresh and well rested, but perhaps an inner glow can fake that.

"Oh, Hotch," she follows him when he walks up to his office as if she has something important to tell him. And in a way she has.

Once they are in his office, he turns around to face her, and she closes the door. "Come here," she whispers, and he steps closer to her so that they are both standing right behind the door, and no-one is able to see them through the blinds that are still open. This sudden familiarity is surreal, even more so considering that she just yesterday handed over her resignation to him right here. When Hotch looks at her, he sees his insecurity and self-consciousness reflected in her eyes.

"So... is there a chance that you don't have to work overseas?" he asks in a low voice – on one hand to distract himself or rather his body from her nearness and on the other hand because he simply has to know.

Last night she made a decision. In a way they decided together. She will leave the BAU and take the new job offer as painful as it will be for them not to work together anymore. But staying with the BAU would create the same cycle over and over again, they agreed on this. There might be a chance that she won't have to work overseas or at least only for a short time. Foreign affairs provided several options when they offered her the job, and Emily took the one that would bring her as far away as possible from Hotch. Now things have changed. Perhaps she can even stay in Washington. The team still won't be happy with it, but at least she'll be around so that they don't lose their friend, too. Emily will tell them as soon as she leaves Hotch's office.

"Yeah," she nods and smiles, finally answering Hotch's question. "I called them as early as the etiquette allows it, and it looks good. Either it is three months overseas before I can come back, or I can directly start here. At least I won't have to work abroad for extended periods of time."

Three months... Hotch has to swallow. "Three months is a long time, and I don't know whether the upcoming cases will allow me to visit you in between," he voices his thoughts.

"Hotch...," Emily grabs the lapel of his suit and pulls him closer. She acts cool and almost unaffected but when he leans against her, he feels her heart race beneath her sheer blouse. "We waited more than five years for this. I think we can wait another three months if need be."

This causes him to raise an eyebrow, "You call last night waiting?"

Her lips brush against his as an answer, and he hisses and pulls back because if he gives in, he will not care whether the damn blinds are shut or not.

"We are really doing this, right?" she sighs, every word a soft breath, and Hotch's thoughts wander back to last night, to a situation in which he also felt her breath on his skin.

* * *

><p><strong>Night<strong>

_Stay with me..._

After they made love and dozed off for a short time, she eventually responds to him.

"Does your offer still hold?" Emily asks partly seriously, partly joking, her head resting in the crook of his arm, their limbs entangled, a blanket covering their bodies. They are still on the floor, never made it to her bed. Not even the second time. "Or is it obsolete now that you got what you wanted?"

Of course, her last addition is nothing but a joke. One, though, Hotch isn't able to laugh about. "Don't say that," he replies almost angrily. "Never say that."

He is greeted with silence and almost fears that his reaction alienated her. Then he realizes that she is composing herself for whatever she is about to tell him and tenses up. She won't tell him no, will she? Not after tonight?

But then he hears her voice, almost inaudible, a wisp of wind – barely noticeable on his skin and yet tantalizing, " Well, if your offer still holds, then I guess I won't turn you down."

And just like that everything is different; everything is possible.

* * *

><p><strong>Morning<strong>

Hotch realizes that he hasn't answered Emily's question. With all the memories and flashbacks this is really becoming a bad habit because he doesn't want to give her the wrong impression.

_We are really doing this, right?_

He remembers the first time he saw her in his office. How he told her that there had been a mistake. That she wasn't supposed to join the team. How easily none of this could have happened.

For five years they have been walking on eggshells, denied their feelings, made their lives unnecessarily complicated when _this_ only has been a heartbeat away.

"Yes, we are," he responds softly. After all there is really nothing else left to say.

* * *

><p>The end<p>

_Writing (and especially finishing) this story made me sad and happy at the same time._

_Was it the choice you expected Emily to make?_

_Please click the button and tell me._

_Since this was the last chapter, your review is even more appreciated._

_Thank you so much!_


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